


Flutter

by PorcelainLove



Category: God of War (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 15:18:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19253830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PorcelainLove/pseuds/PorcelainLove
Summary: As Atreus deals with the loss of his mother, he looks to nature for signs that his father cares about him. Nature’s answer might be surprising...





	Flutter

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first God of War fic, I hope it entertains at least a few people.
> 
> Thanks to my bb jeejas for reading it over and for help with the summary (that I blatantly stole from her). <3 you!

Tall trees towered above, and the wind rustling through the massive branches was oddly peaceful.  Every once in a while an errant gust would blow hard enough to knock snow out of a cozy pocket of branches, scattering it to the forest floor like microscopic diamonds.  So serene… or maybe Atreus just hadn’t had time to adjust. After the whirlwind of recent events, anything would seem peaceful.

Father had returned, finally.  He was often gone when Atreus was a baby, so much so that even now his face brought little calm to the boy’s troubled mind.  Atreus’s mother often spoke of quiet moments in their past where his father would hold him, let the lullaby of his strong heartbeat rock his baby self to sleep… but those times were long gone.   ...If they’d ever actually been real. 

His mother had been the most important person in the world.  And now, his father was all he had left. But whether or not his mother had loved the intimidating, distant man who claimed him as his own, that didn’t mean Atreus had to.  He  _ wanted _ to, of course.  Who didn’t want to love and accept their parents?  But after spending so much time away… Atreus wondered if he would have been happier alone.  Surely his sickness couldn’t last forever? He felt stronger with every passing day as it was.

Atreus hopped along the deer path he’d discovered, bounce in his step not out of any real joy but an exercise to improve his speed and stamina.  He got tired quickly, but while his mother accepted him and comforted him, he knew his father would do no such thing.

Scattered here and there were small items that held great meaning.  Acorns were not only food for tiny creatures, but could provide nourishment in great need.  They also made an acceptable soup. Mushrooms were tricky but he was pretty sure he could tell the poison ones from those that were edible.  A bush with broken twigs often meant something large had come by at breakneck speed. His mother had taught him many important things. His father, just one: that having a child and being a father were not one and the same.

Atreus was halfway through a jump when he spotted a clump of white partially hidden under a rotting log.  It was clearly not snow. Atreus tried to twist his body in midair but instead ended up tripping over his own feet and he landed on the forest floor in a tangle of limbs.  With an embarrassed noise, he got up and brushed off his furs, thankful that he’d been alone. If anything, that move would have lowered his father’s opinion even more.

It was a fairy ring.  His mother had always used a more elaborate name but Atreus personally liked the mysticism of fairies.  They were either places of good luck, or terrible misfortune, depending on how you approached them and how the fairies were feeling that particular day.  Atreus didn’t know how his day could get any worse so he said a simple greeting in as many languages as he could (under his breath, of course. It wouldn’t be good for his father to hear him “mumbling to himself”) and swiped a small white pebble from the centre of the ring.  It was about the size of his biggest nail and reminded him of one of the thick, white scars on his mother’s upper arm. It was also small enough so that, if fairies were real, he hoped they wouldn’t mind the loss.

Lost in thought, the sound of a sharp  **_crack_ ** cut through the still air of the woods and startled Atreus so much he almost lost his footing in shock.  His father must have found one of the trees marked with his mother’s hand print - the ones she’d specifically requested for her funeral pyre.  Time to head back to see if he could be of any use or, more likely, how long he could be present before his father discovered some newfound fault in his person.

How someone as strong and gentle as his mother could have ever loved someone like…  _ him _ was a complete mystery.  Still, it gave Atreus some semblance of hope that maybe the man who looked as cold as the icy mountains on the horizon had a heart.

Clutching the stone tightly in his fist, Atreus headed towards where his father had said he’d be.  He got maybe a couple hundred paces, close enough that he could smell water and a hint of mold and rot from underneath the snow.  Proximity to the water was melting the ice faster than in the rest of the forest.

He stopped.  There was a soft noise ahead, something panicked and frantic and unnatural in the relative calm.  Atreus closed his eyes and listened, tucking his white stone into a pocket as he did so. He could hear whispers in the air, some unknown and almost inaudible voice telling him to come closer.  Maybe it was his own mind talking, maybe it was something  _ more. _  Either way, he followed the call.

It was a bird.  It lay huddled against the roots of a broken tree, almost indistinguishable from the knots and vines surrounding it.  About the size of Atreus’s clenched first, it was dark brown with a tuft of white across its beak - almost perfect camouflage.  If he hadn’t been searching, Atreus never would have found it. The bird grew still and quiet the closer the boy came, but when it was clear it had been found, he opened one eye to glare balefully out.  Atreus almost took a step back in shock: the eye was a blazing blue and seemed to sparkle with an inner fire. 

Atreus had never seen something so beautiful, yet so scared.

Atreus knelt down to get a better look and only then did he notice one of the brown wings was hanging at an odd angle, feathers in shambles.  Looking up, way up, he thought there may have been something resembling a nest in the branches above.

“Here little guy,” Atreus cooed, using the same voice his mother always had when she brought home injured or sick animals, “I’m not going to hurt you.”  He reached out to cup the bird when, with a squawk of anger, it lunged at him as best it could and sunk its beak into Atreus’s palm.

Too surprised to scream, Atreus bit his lip in an effort to stay as quiet as possible and not alarm the bird anymore than he already had.  Even so, he felt a tear roll down one cheek - that  _ hurt _ .  He lifted his injured hand and brought it and the bird to his chest.  He couldn’t see any blood but he knew without a doubt that this bird was not as innocent as it appeared.  There were far too many creatures living in the forest for Atreus, or even his mother, to know all their names but it wasn’t hard to assume that a bird with teeth was carnivorous.  Still, that didn’t mean it deserved to suffer.

“Sorry, sorry,” Atreus whispered as softly as he could, “I didn’t mean to scare you.  Please, please let go, I just want to help.” The bird fluttered in his palm, clawed toes leaving scratches that burned abnormally, but briefly.  Eventually, the bird wore itself out. In defeat, it opened its mouth and released Atreus’s flesh. He could see the tiny pinhead-sized cuts open as his skin stretched and he willed his eyes to look only at the bird.

“Did you fall from that tree?” The boy pointed upwards with his chin and the bird’s gaze followed his movements as if it understood him somehow.  Atreus didn’t need a verbal reply to know that he was correct. His father was a powerful man, if anyone could create a veritable sonic boom from an axe swing, it was him.  And, being the son, Atreus felt responsible. “I see. I’m sorry. I’ll see if I can help you.” It took less than a second to affirm that there was no possible way to get the baby bird back to its nest, not unless Atreus himself suddenly sprouted wings.

It was odd to think but the bird reminded him of himself.  But he wasn’t sick anymore, not  _ broken _ , and if he could help the bird like his mother had helped him, maybe he’d miss her less.  Maybe she’d be proud of him. Maybe the sun would finally appear and it would be a sign that she loved him despite being gone.  He mainly dealt in ‘maybes’ these days.

There was a final sounding crash in the distance and Atreus remembered that he should get going.  Cupping the tiny animal against the soft, warm furs on his chest, he ran to find his father.

Soon enough, he spotted him.  The large man was just trimming the top of a great, white tree - cutting off extraneous branches and making it easier to transport.  Atreus could see his father’s shoulders stiffen as a twig snapped beneath his small boot, and he winced.

“Father, I’ve returned.” Atreus said, putting courage behind his words.   _ Show no fear, be strong _ .  It was a refrain his mother often told him when his father appeared.  

“Boy.”  The behemoth greeted his son stiffly as he examined his child up and down, staring momentarily at unnatural way in which Atreus held his arm against his chest.  The bird wiggled and Atreus tried not to giggle, but it was so soft and it  _ tickled _ .  

Atreus knew that Father wouldn’t ask about what he was holding, he never showed much interest in nature like Atreus did.  But this was something Atreus could not do alone.

_ Boy _ .  It was the one word his father used more than any other.  It bothered him at first, to hear that and not his name, but to be honest… if he’d been calling out for ‘Atreus’ after all his time away, it would have sounded… wrong.  

“Father, I need your help.”  Atreus began, taking a step forward and showing off the sorrowful bird in his grasp.  “He fell from a tree and I think he’s just a baby and--”

“Men do not ask for help, boy.”  It was just a statement but it felt like a slap in the face.  Atreus’s mother had taught him to fend for himself but he had always been a sickly child and she made it clear that there was nothing wrong is asking for assistance when it was truly needed.  Yet another reminder of what an odd couple his parents had been. 

“Please?”  Atreus tried again, more politely this time.  “It’s impossible on my own.”

The older man grunted dismissively and turned back to continue shaving down the tree.  “The wing is broken, the creature will die. Death is inevitable.” He stopped what he was doing as he said those words, and a flash of emotion crossed his face.  Then he shook his head almost sadly and continued on. Atreus felt a flash of anger that he tried to quell. To talk about death so casually on such a day…

“Mother taught me to care about others, to help when I could.”

Atreus’s father said nothing.  

“I was a frail child,” Atreus began, knowing that nothing he was saying was anything his father didn’t know but trying anyway, “and mother took much from the earth and rivers and forests to make me better.  She said that nature itself helped heal me so we should give back to nature when we could. Today is the day that we finally… she…,” Atreus stopped for a moment to gather his thoughts before continuing. His father disliked it when he spoke on and on without purpose.  “I’d like to honour her one last time by saving this one animal. If possible. It would mean a lot. Sir.” He finished rather lamely, hoping his point had gotten across. He wanted to help but his father’s stubbornness made him determined in return.

“Faye…” The words came so softly Atreus wasn’t sure they’d even been spoken.  Then the voice hardened and Atreus’s father stood tall and commanded, “Come here, boy.”

The boy did.

“I promise nothing.  If the creature is strong, it will survive.  If not, it will perish. Such is the nature of our world.”

“I understand, father.”

“Show me.”

Extending his hand, Atreus presented the bird to his father.  The elder’s eyes were solemn as he reached into a small pouch at his waist and withdrew something so minuscule it was dwarfed between his massive thumb and forefinger.  With a huff of annoyance, Atreus’s father took the bird in his free hand and pinched whatever he held over the small, blue eye beneath. A dazzling sprinkle of brilliant green sank downwards and immediately absorbed into the tiny body.  Like magic, the wing snapped back into its rightful place and blunted feather tips regrew in an instant.

With one final peck (this time drawing blood, although the large man didn’t even seem to notice) the baby flew up into the treetops with nary a glance back.  Atreus couldn’t help a smile from gracing his lips, just for an instant, before he felt his father’s piercing gaze once more.

“Are you ready, boy?”

“Yes sir, th-thank you very much.”

Father sighed dismissively and bent down, his armor creaking as his picked up the enormous tree from the ground and placed it on his shoulders.  “Let’s go. We have more to work to do.”

“Yes father.”

As they both headed back towards the waiting canoe, Atreus couldn’t help but look up to the clouds, hoping to catch sight of the small bird one final time.  It stood to reason that he wouldn’t see the creature ever again, not in a forest of this size, but he couldn’t help himself. His mother  _ would _ be proud of him and she would love his gift.  And even his father… grudgingly helping or not, it was one of the few times Atreus could remember that his father had listened to him without dismissing his concern outright.

They both had a lot to learn, especially him, but Atreus was suddenly filled with optimism.  His mother was gone but maybe, just maybe, his father could be taught how to care.

And in the trees, Atreus thought he could hear the raucous cawing of a family reunited.  It gave him hope.

Overhead, the clouds parted with an orange glow, and the sun shone bright.

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies for any grammatical errors or tense issues.


End file.
